Well the choir of King's College, Cambridge are on the radio performing Nine Lessons and Carols right now as I sit here starting to type this, so it must be time for my third annual review. How was Lay Clerk's 2009?
A bit mixed, to be honest, but then again such is life. Much of what occupied my mind throughout the whole year concerns another person and according to the unwritten rules of Blogging which are solely in my head, I choose to keep that topic to myself.
Another unwritten rule is that I won't Blog about work, so apart from saying that I'm still enjoying it and we continue to be as busy as ever, I'll leave it there.
On the subject of work, a close friend was unfortunately made redundant at the start of the year, a victim of the worldwide economic situation, and for a few months went through a difficult time during which I hope I was there to offer what little support or help I could, and thankfully a new, better job was secured after a while. Onwards and upwards.
I still sing with Glasgow Chamber Choir, mostly enjoying it but sometimes having to fight against my inner dislike of certain types of choral music. On the whole it continues to be good fun, good musically, and a good bunch of people.
In 2009 my presence in the choirstalls at the Cathedral occurred more frequently and more regularly, and more or less every week I sing Choral Evensong on the Sunday, which I am thoroughly enjoying.
In about May the administrator of RSCM Scottish Voices, which was started the previous summer, resigned, and I was subsequently asked to take over that role. It's been an interesting 6 months, most but not quite all of it interesting in a nice way. I've registered a Domain name for the choir, but haven't yet got round to uploading the website which is sitting on my laptop. In truth, this is mostly because I've forgotten how to go about having multiple websites hosted together but kept separate, since it's been such a long time since I did anything with any of my sites. At some point I'll get the finger out and do it. And if anyone familiar with creating and uploading websites to 1&1 using Microsoft Frontpage is reading this and wants to remind me how easy it is, I'd be obliged! In the meantime I've also started a Blog for the choir, which is linked from the sidebar on the left. If any RSCM Scottish Voices members are reading this for some reason, and they fancy having a go at sometimes adding choir-related content to our Blog, email me.
In May I sang with The Biggar Singers in an enjoyable performance of Morten Lauridsen's piece, Lux Aeterna, which involved about a hundred mile round trip every week to rehearse. The choir's conducted and accompanied respectively by two members of Glasgow Chamber Choir who live down that way, and my few weeks of excessive travel pale into insignificance when set against them doing it every week coming to Glasgow. And indeed two other GCC members travel from Dumfriesshire every week to rehearse!
A personal high point of the year was when I was asked to sing the tenor solo in a performance of Stainer's Crucifixion on Good Friday in Paisley. My initial reaction upon being asked was "no thanks, I'm a chorister, not a soloist" but when I thought about it, knowing that I can actually sing the notes if not necessarily perform them as a "proper" soloist would, I thought why the hell not. And so I did. And it went well. First time I've ever had my name on a poster! I have no ambitions to be a soloist, and while I'd possibly say yes if asked again, equally I am not at all bothered.
I paid another visit to Paisley later in April, but this time to the Paisley Beer Festival, which was most enjoyable and having been there two years ago is likely to become an annual pilgrimage, albeit I missed last year as I was in Calfornia. I only went on one evening, but a fellow Cathedral chorister, Neil, took holiday from work and went every day. Now that's dedication!
In July four of us from Glasgow Chamber Choir, having coincidentally and enjoyably sung solo parts together during a recent concert, decided to get together and sing together some more. We've met twice so far, it's as much a social event as a musical one, and despite some (hopefully tongue in cheek) remarks from another couple of friends about "the elite group" it's just a bunch of friends singing, drinking and eating together. We've performed together under the name The New Quartet in public once, a few days ago in a branch of a bank for charity, but who knows whether we'll do it again or whether it'll stay purely as a social event.
After a break of 29 years, I met up with former schoolfriends at a wee reunion in Motherwell in April. It was as though we'd only had a break of 6 months and we all got on great again. An unexpectedly tremendous evening. Another one, on a bigger scale, is planned for next year when it'll be 30 years since we left school. And I foolishly offered to co-ordinate it. It shouldn't involve much more than a few emails though, so should be OK.
On the subject of school, there is a sobering time in one's life when one's schoolfriends start dying. In August Kenny Stewart was the first of us to go. Admittedly the lovely, intelligent, caring person Catherine Fellowes died in a tragic diving accident soon after we left school, leaving her massive potential unfulfilled, but Kenny is the first to die without having an accident. He was one of my closest friends at school, and despite us having some differences in later years, you can't take away the fact that we grew up together.
In July RE and I made a weekend trip to the north east of Scotland to see friends, Stephanie and Martin, and to have a wee tour about. It's an area of the country I happen to really like, and it was good not only to show RE round it, but to catch up with old friends at their barbecue. I've known Stephanie since the mid 1980's when she was a student at Glasgow University and joined the Cathedral Choir, so she's probably one of my oldest friends and although we don't see each other terribly often, it's good to catch up when we can.
In August my brother, his wife and daughter moved back to Scotland. They've been living abroad for about a dozen years, first in Dubai and then in San Diego, California. For some reason they decided to come back to the Scottish climate, and it's great to have them here. My niece, Jess, has joined the Cathedral Choir trebles, and seems to enjoy it I'm glad to say. I was immensely proud to be asked to present her with her surplice at Evensong when she passed from being a probationer to being a chorister. They hosted a Halloween party in October (on the 30th, funnily enough!) and the fact that they live in a castle (yes, really) made it all the more spooky! Great fun.
August also saw a return visit to the World Pipe Band Championship at Glasgow Green, with RE, her cousin and his German girlfriend who were visiting Scotland. It rained. But it was a very enjoyable day despite the weather.
In September RE hosted one of her sisters, visiting from New Zealand, and I joined them for a trip to Linlithgow, their ancestral town. It was the first time I've been there, and I can now recommend the Four Mary's pub in the main street.
In a much previous life I was a roadie and mixed the sound for a local band. All very enjoyable, but in an amateur way. A friend, Ian, does it for a living though, well, the sound engineer bit anyway, and ages ago I mentioned to him that if he was ever needing some semi-skilled labour (i.e. really unskilled!) then I'd happily come and lift and carry stuff around for him. In September he called my bluff, and I found myself for two days being a roadie working on the sound crew at the Merchant City Festival in Glasgow. With three outdoor stages and an indoor venue to be covered, it was hard work, a bit physical sometimes, and a lot to take in, but it was great. I even ended up twiddling the knobs for one act, while Ian was called away to deal with a change of venue for another group. All very basic stuff of course, but I'm glad to say Ian trusted me enough to leave me on my own, and I'm even gladder to say I managed to avoid fucking it up! I'm looking forward to the next time, although I don't expect a change of career is due anytime soon!
The Institute of Advanced Motorists has taken more of a back seat this year, pardon the pun, although I did complete the necessary number of observed runs to continue as a Qualified Motorcycle Observer. It remains to be seen however whether I'll continue next year.
I've started to get the flat a bit more sorted. With the benefit of hindsight I realise that when I moved in I wasn't really in the right emotional frame of mind to do the decorating necessary, and as time went on I stopped seeing the faults. I have now got as far as getting a quote from a decorator, and getting the hallway replastered. Soon after Christmas I'll contact the decorator again and get him to come and do the business in the living room and hallway.
My general level of fitness continues to improve as I take advantage of the gym a few hundred yards from my house. I even made it onto a running track with RE a couple of times, but that was very hard going at that time! In the past few weeks I've slipped a bit, but my main New Year's resolution is to redouble my efforts. And I WILL do it.
On a fitness topic, in 2009 I did something I never thought I'd do. I climbed a hill. Not only a hill, but it was in fact a Munro. I've never ever ever been interested in hillwalking, and have been vocal about that opinion all through my life. But RE persuaded me to try it. Well I say persuaded me, but not proactively. I just mean that her influence, unbeknownst to her, made me want to do it. So she kindly agreed to "babysit me" up a hill. I'd be lying if I said there weren't bits I didn't enjoy. I slipped and fell up to my knees in a very cold stream; I slithered and slid my way down what was allegedly a "path"; I fell and staved my finger, but I bloody enjoyed it! And I know that thousands of people do it every weekend and think nothing of it. But this was me doing it. Me who about a year ago looked as though he was about to expire after a very short climb up a set of steps to a scenic viewpoint in the Scottish Borders. Me who a year ago hadn't taken any form of exercise for God knows how long, apart from when I tried badminton and spectacularly ruptured my achilles tendon. Me who is a city boy who has always said he didn't mind walking as long as it was on a pavement. This was me who walked up that Munro. And it is still me who is immensely proud of having done it, and proud of his friend RE for having the patience, skill and perseverance to help me all the way. Others may do it more often and with less effort, but we all have different abilities and different goals, and this particular achievement ranks highly for me.
So that's a potted history of Lay Clerk's 2009. A mixed year, but generally a good one and ending better than it started. Much of the above was Blogged about in depth at the time so if you've read this post in isolation it must seem pretty sparse of detail, and of course I've missed things out. Not just deliberately missed things to protect other people's privacy, but simply because things will have slipped my mind. Something which will hopefully never slip my mind though is to mention the love, friendship, and support of my closest friends, some of whom have been such for the thick end of 25 years, some for only a couple of years, but I value them all and thank them for their continuing friendship and support. I won't name them, but you know who you are. Thank you one and all.
Happy Christmas folks!
Showing posts with label achilles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label achilles. Show all posts
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Anniversary of pain
That's now two years since, on Sunday 18th March 2007, I snapped my Achilles Tendon in a rather painful manner!
Since then my recovery has been a bit slow, but is now pretty much complete, and I rarely limp. I don't recommend doing such an injury to yourself though, it's not pleasant!
Since then my recovery has been a bit slow, but is now pretty much complete, and I rarely limp. I don't recommend doing such an injury to yourself though, it's not pleasant!
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Round 2, and furry things
My plan was to take advantage of being off work to get the gym attendance well kick-started. Oh, didn't I mention? I have 10 days annual leave left from my 2008 allowance which must be taken by the end of January, so I'm off for the first two weeks in January. Aren't you? Shame!
Anyway, back to the point. I had thought that maybe I'd go to the gym and/or swimming pool every day after my good start on Monday. But then for no particular reason I decided to take Tuesday off, and that afternoon I started to get a bit sore in the left leg. The one the achilles tendon got broke on. And yesterday, Wednesday, was pretty much a write off since I was limping around with the feeling of a dead leg in my left thigh. Although yesterday I did get the bus into Glasgow city centre and walked (ie limped) around for an hour or so, meeting RE for lunch when we went to Wagamama. The first time I've been there, but I suspect not the last.
But this morning my leg feels much better, and so at 0930hrs I got to the gym for round 2 of the fight to fitness. Hey, that's not a bad slogan! I didn't do so much this time, but I think I should probably realistically not keep going beyond the time when I initially think "that's enough" otherwise I run the risk of starting to not enjoy it. In all I was there for about 50 minutes.
This time I stayed away from the cross trainer and rowing machine, and spent 15 minutes on an exercise bike, 10 minutes on a hand bike (no idea if that's what it's really called, but it describes it reasonably well), and 20 minutes walking fast on a treadmill. On the treadmill I covered just over 2km at a maximum speed of 6km/h.
I suspect these might become my default machines, at first anyway, until I get a bit fitter and feel able and willing to spread my wings so to speak.
The other difference this time was that I took my MP3 player (note, not iPod, it's an iRiver which when I bought it I considered superior to the iPod albeit it's now a bit, well a lot, dated). This meant that I could ignore the semi-ubiquitous MTV, and instead I exercised to choral music including parts of a William Byrd Mass, the one for four voices, and some Tallis. Turned up REALLY loud!
On an unrelated matter, when I first moved from my hometown of Motherwell into Glasgow in about 1985, I lodged with JC, one of the other members of St Mary's Cathedral Choir in his flat in Hyndland in the fashionable west end. He moved away a while later, including a spell as a doctor in the Antarctic, and over the years I've lost touch, but thanks to Facebook I've just been in contact with him again, which is great. The benefits of modern technology!
On an equally unrelated matter, when I was in the city centre yesterday I decided to buy some new jeans, so went to Slater's Menswear. As I walked in I saw a sign intimating they were selling off ex-hire kilts, so I went for a look and, to cut a long story short, I walked out with a Prince Charlie Jacket, full dress sporran (furry, see right which is pretty much identical to the one I bought!), and dress sgian dhub.
And no jeans.
A total of £158 onto my Slater's account, and perhaps the strangest impulse purchase I've made for a long time! But at least now I have the full dress regalia and can decide whether to wear the kilt with big boots and a tee-shirt, semi formal with the Argyll jacket I bought (and Blogged about) in March last year, or fully formal with the Prince Charlie jacket and waistcoat.
Now, I must get back and buy some jeans!
Anyway, back to the point. I had thought that maybe I'd go to the gym and/or swimming pool every day after my good start on Monday. But then for no particular reason I decided to take Tuesday off, and that afternoon I started to get a bit sore in the left leg. The one the achilles tendon got broke on. And yesterday, Wednesday, was pretty much a write off since I was limping around with the feeling of a dead leg in my left thigh. Although yesterday I did get the bus into Glasgow city centre and walked (ie limped) around for an hour or so, meeting RE for lunch when we went to Wagamama. The first time I've been there, but I suspect not the last.
But this morning my leg feels much better, and so at 0930hrs I got to the gym for round 2 of the fight to fitness. Hey, that's not a bad slogan! I didn't do so much this time, but I think I should probably realistically not keep going beyond the time when I initially think "that's enough" otherwise I run the risk of starting to not enjoy it. In all I was there for about 50 minutes.
This time I stayed away from the cross trainer and rowing machine, and spent 15 minutes on an exercise bike, 10 minutes on a hand bike (no idea if that's what it's really called, but it describes it reasonably well), and 20 minutes walking fast on a treadmill. On the treadmill I covered just over 2km at a maximum speed of 6km/h.
I suspect these might become my default machines, at first anyway, until I get a bit fitter and feel able and willing to spread my wings so to speak.
The other difference this time was that I took my MP3 player (note, not iPod, it's an iRiver which when I bought it I considered superior to the iPod albeit it's now a bit, well a lot, dated). This meant that I could ignore the semi-ubiquitous MTV, and instead I exercised to choral music including parts of a William Byrd Mass, the one for four voices, and some Tallis. Turned up REALLY loud!
On an unrelated matter, when I first moved from my hometown of Motherwell into Glasgow in about 1985, I lodged with JC, one of the other members of St Mary's Cathedral Choir in his flat in Hyndland in the fashionable west end. He moved away a while later, including a spell as a doctor in the Antarctic, and over the years I've lost touch, but thanks to Facebook I've just been in contact with him again, which is great. The benefits of modern technology!
On an equally unrelated matter, when I was in the city centre yesterday I decided to buy some new jeans, so went to Slater's Menswear. As I walked in I saw a sign intimating they were selling off ex-hire kilts, so I went for a look and, to cut a long story short, I walked out with a Prince Charlie Jacket, full dress sporran (furry, see right which is pretty much identical to the one I bought!), and dress sgian dhub.
And no jeans.
A total of £158 onto my Slater's account, and perhaps the strangest impulse purchase I've made for a long time! But at least now I have the full dress regalia and can decide whether to wear the kilt with big boots and a tee-shirt, semi formal with the Argyll jacket I bought (and Blogged about) in March last year, or fully formal with the Prince Charlie jacket and waistcoat.
Now, I must get back and buy some jeans!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Review of 2008
It's that time of year again when the TV, Radio and newspapers are full of their reviews of the activity and stories of the previous 12 months. Well I'm not going to be outdone! For your delectation (well, OK, it's actually totally for me as a cathartic exercise) here is how 2008 went for me. Not everything I'm going to mention has already been Blogged about, but some has.
Looking back at the review of 2007 I posted a year ago, I can see there have been some changes to my life in the past year. Almost exclusively these have been changes for the better.
The year 2007 ended with me having rejoined Glasgow Chamber Choir, and continuing to enjoy the experience. This coincided with me coming to the end of a difficult and sometimes turbulent relationship which had been going on for a bit over a year. I pride myself on being easy going and hopefully pretty calm much of the time, but my stress levels were through the roof for a significant chunk of the latter part of 2007. I didn't really Blog about this much at the time, it wouldn't have been right, but I can say now with the clarity of hindsight that this was a relationship I shouldn't have been in, and having been in it, it shouldn't have dragged on as long as it did. It did neither of us any good. And in fact it affected my friendship with other, better, friends too. Another pride I take is that I am still on good speaking terms with everyone (there are not all that many!) with whom I have had a significant relationship, whatever form that took, but this particular relationship having finished part way through the year and changed into a tentative, or possibly even tenuous, friendship, in January something happened which caused the other person to cut off all contact with me, despite my efforts to try to remain friends. I gave it a few weeks though, and after all calls had gone unanswered, including calls being rejected, I gave up and haven't thought about contacting her again. So another dark chapter passes!
The thing that happened in January was that I started a new relationship with RE, a member of Glasgow Chamber Choir. She had joined in September 2007 on the same evening I had rejoined, and over the next weeks and months we seemed to hit it off and seemed to enjoy one another's company, albeit always in a larger group, and so we eventually started dating. And we are still doing so, I'm very glad to say! It wouldn't be right for me to describe RE, or our relationship, or how I felt, or anything like that. So I won't. But she knows, I hope, and that's what matters.
In January, sadly, my gran died after a short illness but a long life. Needless to say I miss her. It was largely for her that I started tracing my family tree a few years ago (I currently have it traced back to the late 17th century in one of the strands) and since her death I haven't put any real effort into researching anything further. I fully intend getting back into it in the new year though.
Also in January I sat and passed my Institute of Advanced Motorists Advanced Driving test, adding that qualification to the Advanced Motorcycling one I passed the previous month. Since then I haven't felt the urge to become a Qualified Car Observer, but I persevered with the motorcycling training and in September 2008 I successfully passed the written and practical tests which make me a Qualified Motorcycle Observer, able to accompany and assist associates who are undertaking training to pass their own Advanced test. The season's finished just now of course, but I'm looking forward to carrying on with helping associates next year.
In March I spent a tremendously enjoyable long weekend in Marseilles with Glasgow Chamber Choir, where we sang in a couple of concerts (pretty stress free) and ate, drank and socialised a lot. I think part of the reason I enjoyed it was that it was my first trip abroad for ages, apart from the trip to Belgium in 2007 when I was in a plaster cast, and the first time away with RE. In fact up to that point our relationship was known only to a very small handful of people, but we had to come out the closet, so to speak, for the trip away so it was nice not to have to hide it from our friends any longer!
I've made my personal peace with St Mary's Cathedral. For a while I had no intention of ever going back, but I have and I'm very happy to have done so. My absence from the choir, and from the building generally, started with my achilles tendon injury when I couldn't walk or even stand without crutches, but it then developed into a wider problem connected with the relationship I was in. I should never have let that happen, but I did, but I'm glad to say that I'm back. I'm not singing in the choir full time at the moment, because they rehearse on the same evening as Glasgow Chamber Choir does, but I am for the moment one of the "occasional extra" singers drafted in when they need tenors. The other side of that coin is that if I see anything coming up on the music list which I'd like to sing, then I just contact FW, the director of music, and he's happy for me to come and join in, even if that means the choir has a boatload of tenors that evening! And in fact the choir is well blessed for tenors at the moment, there are I think about five of them, so I'm not really needed just now. But RE and I do attend Evensong most weeks, which is very enjoyable only not quite so enjoyable as actually singing in it!
This year, and I actually can't remember when it was apart from early summer or before, St Mary's Cathedral played host to a big Evensong service for the organist emeritus, Bernard Porter, who was celebrating a significant birthday. Lots of former choir members, including me, joined the current choir and made a spectacular sound. Some travelled from as far afield as the south of England, the north of Scotland, and New York to join the singing! And the socialising, funnily enough, was great!
In the summer, together with various friends including RE, I joined the newly formed Royal School of Church Music Scottish Voices choir. The initial meeting was a residential weekend at Strathallan School in Perthshire, which seemed to go well, not least because FW, from St Mary's Cathedral, is also the conductor of RSCM Scottish Voices. I should explain that the RSCM choir is not to be confused with Scottish Voices, which is a different choir. Apparently RSCM Scottish Voices is the equivalent of the RSCM Cathedral Singers in England, but they decided not to use that name in Scotland lest it offended Presbyterians and others who have no cathedrals! Political correctness strikes again! So they chose the name RSCM Scottish Voices instead, and presumably either didn't realise there is already a choir called Scottish Voices, or didn't care. Superb!
Anyway, next year's dates have recently been circulated, and it looks like it'll be a busy and enjoyable year.
In September my little cat Ernie fell ill, and after a short illness sadly died. I Blogged about that extensively at the time and have no intentions of reliving it here, since it was an intensely painful experience. I miss him greatly, as does Elmo, his wee pal.
One of the high spots of the year undoubtedly was my visit to San Diego, Califonia to visit my brother and his family. Made even better by RE joining me for the last few days when she was enroute back to Glasgow from New Zealand and made a stopover. I've Blogged a fair bit about the holiday, but I'm conscious that I still haven't told the full story yet and I owe this Blog the final installment, so I'll try to get to that as soon as possible!
I discovered in 2008, or it might have been late 2007, that my blood pressure had climbed alarmingly. It's now down to a better level, and I'm trying to get my act together to get to my local gym regularly in an effort to keep it down, lose a bit of weight, and get fit enough to do the things I want to do, which are many and varied! I've decided against taking up badminton again though, as I don't relish the idea of fucking up my achilles tendon again! Watch this space for details of my progress, if indeed I make any progress!
As ever, I make it my rule not to Blog about work. Suffice to say I'm still enjoying being in the particular department I'm in, doing the things I do, and tempting as it is to go looking for more money elsewhere, and it IS available, I'd rather stay where I am. For the moment anyway!
So, to sum up, 2008 has been a good year for me, not only on the relationship front but also as regards St Mary's Cathedral and trips abroad to sunny places. On the extreme down side, I lost both my gran and my faithful companion Ernie, but such is the way of life.
I've just re-read all of the above and realised it's a bit more of a random stream of consciousness than usual, so apologies for that. If I could be arsed I'd edit it into some better chronological, or at least logical, order, but I can't!
Anyway, Happy Christmas and a successful 2009 to you all, and I refuse to go down the political correctness route and use weasel words detracting from Christmas. If you are offended by my wishing you a Happy Christmas rather than Happy Holidays or similar, then perhaps you're reading the wrong Blog and I invite you never to darken my URL again!
Looking back at the review of 2007 I posted a year ago, I can see there have been some changes to my life in the past year. Almost exclusively these have been changes for the better.
The year 2007 ended with me having rejoined Glasgow Chamber Choir, and continuing to enjoy the experience. This coincided with me coming to the end of a difficult and sometimes turbulent relationship which had been going on for a bit over a year. I pride myself on being easy going and hopefully pretty calm much of the time, but my stress levels were through the roof for a significant chunk of the latter part of 2007. I didn't really Blog about this much at the time, it wouldn't have been right, but I can say now with the clarity of hindsight that this was a relationship I shouldn't have been in, and having been in it, it shouldn't have dragged on as long as it did. It did neither of us any good. And in fact it affected my friendship with other, better, friends too. Another pride I take is that I am still on good speaking terms with everyone (there are not all that many!) with whom I have had a significant relationship, whatever form that took, but this particular relationship having finished part way through the year and changed into a tentative, or possibly even tenuous, friendship, in January something happened which caused the other person to cut off all contact with me, despite my efforts to try to remain friends. I gave it a few weeks though, and after all calls had gone unanswered, including calls being rejected, I gave up and haven't thought about contacting her again. So another dark chapter passes!
The thing that happened in January was that I started a new relationship with RE, a member of Glasgow Chamber Choir. She had joined in September 2007 on the same evening I had rejoined, and over the next weeks and months we seemed to hit it off and seemed to enjoy one another's company, albeit always in a larger group, and so we eventually started dating. And we are still doing so, I'm very glad to say! It wouldn't be right for me to describe RE, or our relationship, or how I felt, or anything like that. So I won't. But she knows, I hope, and that's what matters.
In January, sadly, my gran died after a short illness but a long life. Needless to say I miss her. It was largely for her that I started tracing my family tree a few years ago (I currently have it traced back to the late 17th century in one of the strands) and since her death I haven't put any real effort into researching anything further. I fully intend getting back into it in the new year though.
Also in January I sat and passed my Institute of Advanced Motorists Advanced Driving test, adding that qualification to the Advanced Motorcycling one I passed the previous month. Since then I haven't felt the urge to become a Qualified Car Observer, but I persevered with the motorcycling training and in September 2008 I successfully passed the written and practical tests which make me a Qualified Motorcycle Observer, able to accompany and assist associates who are undertaking training to pass their own Advanced test. The season's finished just now of course, but I'm looking forward to carrying on with helping associates next year.
In March I spent a tremendously enjoyable long weekend in Marseilles with Glasgow Chamber Choir, where we sang in a couple of concerts (pretty stress free) and ate, drank and socialised a lot. I think part of the reason I enjoyed it was that it was my first trip abroad for ages, apart from the trip to Belgium in 2007 when I was in a plaster cast, and the first time away with RE. In fact up to that point our relationship was known only to a very small handful of people, but we had to come out the closet, so to speak, for the trip away so it was nice not to have to hide it from our friends any longer!
I've made my personal peace with St Mary's Cathedral. For a while I had no intention of ever going back, but I have and I'm very happy to have done so. My absence from the choir, and from the building generally, started with my achilles tendon injury when I couldn't walk or even stand without crutches, but it then developed into a wider problem connected with the relationship I was in. I should never have let that happen, but I did, but I'm glad to say that I'm back. I'm not singing in the choir full time at the moment, because they rehearse on the same evening as Glasgow Chamber Choir does, but I am for the moment one of the "occasional extra" singers drafted in when they need tenors. The other side of that coin is that if I see anything coming up on the music list which I'd like to sing, then I just contact FW, the director of music, and he's happy for me to come and join in, even if that means the choir has a boatload of tenors that evening! And in fact the choir is well blessed for tenors at the moment, there are I think about five of them, so I'm not really needed just now. But RE and I do attend Evensong most weeks, which is very enjoyable only not quite so enjoyable as actually singing in it!
This year, and I actually can't remember when it was apart from early summer or before, St Mary's Cathedral played host to a big Evensong service for the organist emeritus, Bernard Porter, who was celebrating a significant birthday. Lots of former choir members, including me, joined the current choir and made a spectacular sound. Some travelled from as far afield as the south of England, the north of Scotland, and New York to join the singing! And the socialising, funnily enough, was great!
In the summer, together with various friends including RE, I joined the newly formed Royal School of Church Music Scottish Voices choir. The initial meeting was a residential weekend at Strathallan School in Perthshire, which seemed to go well, not least because FW, from St Mary's Cathedral, is also the conductor of RSCM Scottish Voices. I should explain that the RSCM choir is not to be confused with Scottish Voices, which is a different choir. Apparently RSCM Scottish Voices is the equivalent of the RSCM Cathedral Singers in England, but they decided not to use that name in Scotland lest it offended Presbyterians and others who have no cathedrals! Political correctness strikes again! So they chose the name RSCM Scottish Voices instead, and presumably either didn't realise there is already a choir called Scottish Voices, or didn't care. Superb!
Anyway, next year's dates have recently been circulated, and it looks like it'll be a busy and enjoyable year.
In September my little cat Ernie fell ill, and after a short illness sadly died. I Blogged about that extensively at the time and have no intentions of reliving it here, since it was an intensely painful experience. I miss him greatly, as does Elmo, his wee pal.
One of the high spots of the year undoubtedly was my visit to San Diego, Califonia to visit my brother and his family. Made even better by RE joining me for the last few days when she was enroute back to Glasgow from New Zealand and made a stopover. I've Blogged a fair bit about the holiday, but I'm conscious that I still haven't told the full story yet and I owe this Blog the final installment, so I'll try to get to that as soon as possible!
I discovered in 2008, or it might have been late 2007, that my blood pressure had climbed alarmingly. It's now down to a better level, and I'm trying to get my act together to get to my local gym regularly in an effort to keep it down, lose a bit of weight, and get fit enough to do the things I want to do, which are many and varied! I've decided against taking up badminton again though, as I don't relish the idea of fucking up my achilles tendon again! Watch this space for details of my progress, if indeed I make any progress!
As ever, I make it my rule not to Blog about work. Suffice to say I'm still enjoying being in the particular department I'm in, doing the things I do, and tempting as it is to go looking for more money elsewhere, and it IS available, I'd rather stay where I am. For the moment anyway!
So, to sum up, 2008 has been a good year for me, not only on the relationship front but also as regards St Mary's Cathedral and trips abroad to sunny places. On the extreme down side, I lost both my gran and my faithful companion Ernie, but such is the way of life.
I've just re-read all of the above and realised it's a bit more of a random stream of consciousness than usual, so apologies for that. If I could be arsed I'd edit it into some better chronological, or at least logical, order, but I can't!
Anyway, Happy Christmas and a successful 2009 to you all, and I refuse to go down the political correctness route and use weasel words detracting from Christmas. If you are offended by my wishing you a Happy Christmas rather than Happy Holidays or similar, then perhaps you're reading the wrong Blog and I invite you never to darken my URL again!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Easter Eggs
It's looking good for the Easter Egg run tomorrow lunchtime. The snowy weather promised by the weather forecasters a few days ago is looking less likely and right now the BBC Website says it's going to be pretty reasonable.
So if you happen to be somewhere in the west end of Glasgow tomorrow, Easter Sunday, from 12.30pm, then look out for the 3000+ motorcyclists bringing all the traffic to a halt while delivering a huge number of Easter eggs, and a fair number of cash donations to Yorkhill Children's Hospital.
Obviously the number will be swelled this year by yours truly together with RE riding pillion. This year I will not be standing outside St Mary's Cathedral leaning on crutches and with a glass of sparkly stuff in my hand jealously watching the dirty filthy bikers go by, no sir, this year I will be one of said DF bikers!
So if you're trying to drive in a car in the west end tomorrow lunchtime I'd give it a miss if I were you!
The trip starts at the SECC car park and the route (see image) travels up Finnieston St, left into Argyle St, right into Radnor St, right onto Sauchiehall St, left into Rose St (past the Glasgow Film Theatre), right into Renfrew St, left into Cambridge St, left onto Cowcaddens Rd, bear left onto West Graham St which then takes you onto Great Western Road, past St Mary's Cathedral, left at Anniesland Cross onto Crow Rd (the eponymous road from the Iain Banks 1992 novel), left onto Dumbarton Rd, right into Bunhouse Rd (at the Kelvin Hall, the location of my Achilles Tendon injury just over 1 year ago which led to me being on crutches drinking sparkly stuff), left onto Old Dumbarton Rd, then right into Dalnair St to the hospital. Then a wee trip back to the SECC which is only a few hundred metres from the hospital by the direct route.
An estimated 40 minutes of slow riding at close quarters with lots of other riders. Lots of horn blowing and lots of waving to watching pedestrians, including those outside St Mary's. Should be fun. Report will doubtless follow.
One thing that strikes me as slightly strange however is that the IAM are not represented there. Yes, of course there will be riders who like me are members of the IAM, but the Institute itself is not officially represented as far as I can make out. I would have thought that the presence of thousands of bikers in one place at the same time might be seen as a God given opportunity to spread the word and, more importantly, capture the chequebooks of some new associate members. But apparently not. Outside the official season no doubt, so out of the question.
So if you happen to be somewhere in the west end of Glasgow tomorrow, Easter Sunday, from 12.30pm, then look out for the 3000+ motorcyclists bringing all the traffic to a halt while delivering a huge number of Easter eggs, and a fair number of cash donations to Yorkhill Children's Hospital.
Obviously the number will be swelled this year by yours truly together with RE riding pillion. This year I will not be standing outside St Mary's Cathedral leaning on crutches and with a glass of sparkly stuff in my hand jealously watching the dirty filthy bikers go by, no sir, this year I will be one of said DF bikers!
So if you're trying to drive in a car in the west end tomorrow lunchtime I'd give it a miss if I were you!
The trip starts at the SECC car park and the route (see image) travels up Finnieston St, left into Argyle St, right into Radnor St, right onto Sauchiehall St, left into Rose St (past the Glasgow Film Theatre), right into Renfrew St, left into Cambridge St, left onto Cowcaddens Rd, bear left onto West Graham St which then takes you onto Great Western Road, past St Mary's Cathedral, left at Anniesland Cross onto Crow Rd (the eponymous road from the Iain Banks 1992 novel), left onto Dumbarton Rd, right into Bunhouse Rd (at the Kelvin Hall, the location of my Achilles Tendon injury just over 1 year ago which led to me being on crutches drinking sparkly stuff), left onto Old Dumbarton Rd, then right into Dalnair St to the hospital. Then a wee trip back to the SECC which is only a few hundred metres from the hospital by the direct route.
An estimated 40 minutes of slow riding at close quarters with lots of other riders. Lots of horn blowing and lots of waving to watching pedestrians, including those outside St Mary's. Should be fun. Report will doubtless follow.
One thing that strikes me as slightly strange however is that the IAM are not represented there. Yes, of course there will be riders who like me are members of the IAM, but the Institute itself is not officially represented as far as I can make out. I would have thought that the presence of thousands of bikers in one place at the same time might be seen as a God given opportunity to spread the word and, more importantly, capture the chequebooks of some new associate members. But apparently not. Outside the official season no doubt, so out of the question.
Monday, March 17, 2008
A year later
It's pretty well a whole year since I completely snapped my Achilles Tendon while playing badminton, on Sunday 18th March 2007.
A couple of months of being in a non-weight-bearing plaster cast, 3 months off work, lots of months of physiotherapy, and a year down the line my left calf is still noticeably smaller than my right one due to muscle wastage when the cast was on, and I still have to concentrate on not limping.
Relatively recently I realised that the reason I keep getting cramp and aches in my left calf is because without having noticed it I now tend to walk with the muscles of my left leg tensed. When I manage to relax it I can walk a lot better and without limping, but I have to think about it as it doesn't come naturally yet. It'll come though, I hope.
So, since my previous post what has happened? I made a fairly rare purchase from Amazon. Rare these days anyway, although I used to buy a lot more from the site. A couple of posts ago I mentioned a few books which had been recommended to me, so that's me bought all three. Additionally I chucked both the Long Way Round and Long Way Down DVDs onto the order because although I've seen various individual episodes I haven't seen either series in its entirety. I really shouldn't place orders online after returning home from the pub, because I also added something off my Amazon Wish List, namely a digital photo frame.
In the flat I rented for a while before buying this house I had my PC in the living room, and quite enjoyed the experience of watching the screen saver of my photos randomly displayed (or rather, displayed in a random order). Since moving however, the PC is in a separate room and I've been missing seeing the photos. No one really ever looks through their photos and I found the screen saver to be a good way of looking at them with no effort involved. So anyway, I have been looking for a digital photo frame for a while, but haven't seen any, apart from pretty expensive ones, that I fancied.
So, I bought an expensive one. On the bright side I saved over £100 on the list price, but it was still well over £100! And it's a 10" one rather than the more usual 7"-8", so although size isn't everything (!) it means I can see it from the other side of the room quite easily.
And it's Wi-Fi enabled so I can just connect to my home network and display all the photos on my PC without having to transfer them to the frame. In theory anyway. I'm having a few teething problems and although I have connected it to the network, it keeps rebooting randomly every so often, so this week I'll have a proper look at it to see if there's something in the settings I need to change. Otherwise it'll go back to Amazon to be replaced.
On Saturday evening a friend, RE, and I were invited to a whisky tasting evening at G&G's house. Could have been messy, but it was actually damned civilised! When we were told about it, in the pub last week, there was some discussion about what the dress code would be, and "dress posh" seemed to be the order of the day, but in the event it didn't end up like that. However in the meanwhile I had decided that this was probably just the right time to splash out on some new accessories for my kilt.
I've had the kilt for a number of years, but generally when I wear it it's worn casually with a big jumper and some heavy boots, and when I need the formal look I've always hired the smart jacket and brogues etc.
As an aside, my kilt is the Scottish Rugby Union (SRU) tartan which is rather nice I think (see image).
So I went to Slaters Menswear and bought an Argyll jacket in a lovely charcoal grey colour and with bone buttons rather than silver so it's kind of semi formal, ghillie brogues, black socks, black sock flashes, and a new kiltpin. All for the bargain price of about £200.
As I say, the whisky tasting turned out not to be a posh dress event, but I wore the kilt anyway, and I'm very pleased to have at last got round to buying the stuff I have spent a fortune hiring over the past years! And a good time was had by all while tasting the whisky.
Next weekend will see this year's Motorcycle Action Group Easter Egg Run from the SECC to Yorkhill Children's Hospital in Glasgow, with 3000+ bikers bearing donations and Easter Eggs, and RE has agreed to accompany me by riding pillion on the bike. This morning then was a small scale trial run when we made sure she was OK riding pillion and I was OK with her on the back. Went well, exceptionally well, and we both enjoyed the experience, made better by having a decent intercom so we could speak to each other as we went along. So next Sunday, Easter Day, should be fun. I will, of course, report on it in due course.
A couple of months of being in a non-weight-bearing plaster cast, 3 months off work, lots of months of physiotherapy, and a year down the line my left calf is still noticeably smaller than my right one due to muscle wastage when the cast was on, and I still have to concentrate on not limping.
Relatively recently I realised that the reason I keep getting cramp and aches in my left calf is because without having noticed it I now tend to walk with the muscles of my left leg tensed. When I manage to relax it I can walk a lot better and without limping, but I have to think about it as it doesn't come naturally yet. It'll come though, I hope.
So, since my previous post what has happened? I made a fairly rare purchase from Amazon. Rare these days anyway, although I used to buy a lot more from the site. A couple of posts ago I mentioned a few books which had been recommended to me, so that's me bought all three. Additionally I chucked both the Long Way Round and Long Way Down DVDs onto the order because although I've seen various individual episodes I haven't seen either series in its entirety. I really shouldn't place orders online after returning home from the pub, because I also added something off my Amazon Wish List, namely a digital photo frame.
In the flat I rented for a while before buying this house I had my PC in the living room, and quite enjoyed the experience of watching the screen saver of my photos randomly displayed (or rather, displayed in a random order). Since moving however, the PC is in a separate room and I've been missing seeing the photos. No one really ever looks through their photos and I found the screen saver to be a good way of looking at them with no effort involved. So anyway, I have been looking for a digital photo frame for a while, but haven't seen any, apart from pretty expensive ones, that I fancied.
So, I bought an expensive one. On the bright side I saved over £100 on the list price, but it was still well over £100! And it's a 10" one rather than the more usual 7"-8", so although size isn't everything (!) it means I can see it from the other side of the room quite easily.
And it's Wi-Fi enabled so I can just connect to my home network and display all the photos on my PC without having to transfer them to the frame. In theory anyway. I'm having a few teething problems and although I have connected it to the network, it keeps rebooting randomly every so often, so this week I'll have a proper look at it to see if there's something in the settings I need to change. Otherwise it'll go back to Amazon to be replaced.
On Saturday evening a friend, RE, and I were invited to a whisky tasting evening at G&G's house. Could have been messy, but it was actually damned civilised! When we were told about it, in the pub last week, there was some discussion about what the dress code would be, and "dress posh" seemed to be the order of the day, but in the event it didn't end up like that. However in the meanwhile I had decided that this was probably just the right time to splash out on some new accessories for my kilt.
I've had the kilt for a number of years, but generally when I wear it it's worn casually with a big jumper and some heavy boots, and when I need the formal look I've always hired the smart jacket and brogues etc.As an aside, my kilt is the Scottish Rugby Union (SRU) tartan which is rather nice I think (see image).
So I went to Slaters Menswear and bought an Argyll jacket in a lovely charcoal grey colour and with bone buttons rather than silver so it's kind of semi formal, ghillie brogues, black socks, black sock flashes, and a new kiltpin. All for the bargain price of about £200.
As I say, the whisky tasting turned out not to be a posh dress event, but I wore the kilt anyway, and I'm very pleased to have at last got round to buying the stuff I have spent a fortune hiring over the past years! And a good time was had by all while tasting the whisky.
Next weekend will see this year's Motorcycle Action Group Easter Egg Run from the SECC to Yorkhill Children's Hospital in Glasgow, with 3000+ bikers bearing donations and Easter Eggs, and RE has agreed to accompany me by riding pillion on the bike. This morning then was a small scale trial run when we made sure she was OK riding pillion and I was OK with her on the back. Went well, exceptionally well, and we both enjoyed the experience, made better by having a decent intercom so we could speak to each other as we went along. So next Sunday, Easter Day, should be fun. I will, of course, report on it in due course.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Review of 2007
I had every intention of continuing with regular postings here, but for various reasons real life has got in the way of virtual life somewhat, so there are gaps in this Blog. Time then for an update of what's been happening.The year started with me still in the rented flat in Dowanhill in Glasgow's west end, where I'd moved after leaving Johnstone, in Renfrewshire, when my wife and I separated and we sold our lovely house in summer 2006.
January 2007 saw me starting to look properly for my own place and I had decided I didn't want to waste money on chasing "offers over" properties, so was interested only in fixed price. Not only that, but with Ernie & Elmo, our two cats, living with me I was only prepared to consider ground floor or at a push first floor flats so they could get out. It also had to be in the west end of Glasgow. My choices were, to say the least, limited!
Taking advantage of all t'InterWeb has to offer, I was on various mailing lists, and eventually I was notified of a flat which ticked all of the boxes except that it wasn't in the west end but 5 miles further out, in Clydebank. Long story short, I bought it and have been happily living here since May. More recently I had a cat flap fitted in the back door, so Ernie & Elmo have now got used to 24/7 access to the great outdoors, which seems to suit them well!
In March I was playing badminton, for only the second time in a long number of years, when I ruptured my Achilles Tendon, putting me into a plaster cast for 2 months, and off work for 3 months. That was not a pleasant experience.
My enforced lay-off from singing in the choir of St Mary's Cathedral while unable to stand without crutches, led straight on to a period of time out from singing there for various reasons I don't intend blogging about. I am still not singing in the cathedral, and I have only been back in the building twice, once for a funeral and once to sing in a concert with another choir. I remain very disillusioned with organised religion, which is a shame.
I visited Belgium with my dad over a weekend back in about April to see my brother who was working there for a few weeks, and despite being on crutches which made things difficult, that was the high spot of the year, partly because I haven't done much travelling abroad in my life, and partly because it was great to spend time like that with dad and with my brother who I see so rarely because he lives in California.
In Manchester I attended the civil partnership of the brother of a friend. It isn't all that long since these were first allowed in the UK, and a straw poll conducted during the speeches at the reception confirmed that not one person attending had been at one before!
Later in the year I was in Kent, this time without crutches, at the wedding of friends of a friend, and that was good partly because they're nice people, but also it's a nice part of the country.
In September my divorce came through. As an observation, it's easier to get divorced than married, at least as far as the amount of paperwork which need completing is concerned! We remain on friendly terms, and I sincerely hope it remains that way. No reason for it not to.
Work is good again. I moved out of my comfort zone into a different department a bit over a year ago, and that caused me for a time to consider where my future lay, but thankfully I am now enjoying it again and have no intention of moving. Sticking with my personal policy of not blogging about work, that's all I intend saying about it.
In late summer I embarked on a quest to pass my Institute of Advanced Motorists bike and car tests. It has been the subject of extensive posts over the past month or so, so suffice to say that I have now passed my advanced bike test, and I'm awaiting a date for my advanced car test.
Missing singing, but not missing the cathedral, in September I rejoined Glasgow Chamber Choir. I was one of the original members when it was founded, and I've sung with them on and off since then. I'm enjoying it immensely and, because there are a fair number of people who have joined since 2002 which was the last time I sang with the choir, I have been enjoying making new friends, some of whom look like becoming very good friends indeed.
So, there you have it. The short version of Lay Clerk's 2007.
Put simply, I have come from a real low in summer 2006 to being just about back on track, and the future looks potentially bright for all sorts of reasons.
My New Year's resolution for 2008 is to start to really enjoy life again, and to try to do what's right and necessary for me even if it's not necessarily right for other people. I'm certainly not going to go out of my way to hurt or upset anyone, least of all my friends, but I need to get my priorities sorted, and my priority this forthcoming year is going to be me!
Can I take this opportunity to wish everyone reading this, particularly those (and I am told there are some) who for some obscure reason read this Blog regularly, a very happy Christmas and a prosperous new year.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Creative geography
There I was getting changed after my physiotherapy on Monday afternoon, when I overheard two physiotherapists chatting as they also got changed at the end of their shift (males I should say, lest you think I was getting changed with female physiotherapists. I should be so bloody lucky, they are mostly babes!).
They were youngish blokes, and judging by the accents neither was from Glasgow (or anywhere near) and they were chatting about where their respective flats were and how they routinely made their way home. One said that he almost always ran home, since he only lived in the southside of Glasgow and it was quicker to run than to get a bus to the city centre then a bus to the southside. The other said he usually walked home, and he had a flat "on the outskirts of the West End, in Ruchill" as I very nearly choked as I tried to contain myself.
Yes, ok this is probably a bit of an in-joke for Glaswegians, and for that I apologise to anyone not familiar with the area. Suffice to say it's very creative geographical profiling! You will no doubt be able to think of an equivalent junkie-bastard-stocked crime-ridden sink estate near you or known to you and a posh slightly up-itself area relatively near it, so you can understand why I nearly choked while trying to suppress laughter.
They were youngish blokes, and judging by the accents neither was from Glasgow (or anywhere near) and they were chatting about where their respective flats were and how they routinely made their way home. One said that he almost always ran home, since he only lived in the southside of Glasgow and it was quicker to run than to get a bus to the city centre then a bus to the southside. The other said he usually walked home, and he had a flat "on the outskirts of the West End, in Ruchill" as I very nearly choked as I tried to contain myself.
Yes, ok this is probably a bit of an in-joke for Glaswegians, and for that I apologise to anyone not familiar with the area. Suffice to say it's very creative geographical profiling! You will no doubt be able to think of an equivalent junkie-bastard-stocked crime-ridden sink estate near you or known to you and a posh slightly up-itself area relatively near it, so you can understand why I nearly choked while trying to suppress laughter.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Alcohol and built up shoes
It's now 3 months since I had the plaster cast removed from my damaged left leg. I have now, as instructed, stopped using the heel lift in my shoe. It feels very strange not to have it there and in fact it hurts a wee bit, but I guess that'll pass quickly enough.
I have a hangover today and I felt like death this morning. Feeling a bit better after a long hot bath though. Why do we drink?
I have a hangover today and I felt like death this morning. Feeling a bit better after a long hot bath though. Why do we drink?
Monday, July 02, 2007
A summary
I missed the anniversary of this Blog! In fact I've missed it by a long way. My first post was on 2nd June 2006 and a lot has happened since then. Some I've Blogged about and some I haven't and never will.
I've been separated, sold our lovely marital home and moved to a rented flat with our two cats, been involved in some exceptionally interesting and unique stuff at work (twice), bought a huge motorcycle, changed department at work and thereby gone from feeling absolutely on top of my game to feeling like the most know-nothing new-start imaginable (a truly terrible feeling and one which for a time has caused me to seriously question my future at work), failed to get even an interview for another job because I have no degree (I have heard recently that the person who got the job is crap though, so that's something!), completely and painfully ruptured my Achilles Tendon putting me in plaster and on crutches for eight weeks and off work for ten, started an extended and ongoing period of time out of the Cathedral Choir I used to love but can't be arsed with now, visited Belgium for the first time, bought a new flat and moved there, and cried a lot. And of course some stuff I'm not going to mention.
I feel as though I've packed several years worth of life experience into a single year, but I really wish I hadn't.
I've been separated, sold our lovely marital home and moved to a rented flat with our two cats, been involved in some exceptionally interesting and unique stuff at work (twice), bought a huge motorcycle, changed department at work and thereby gone from feeling absolutely on top of my game to feeling like the most know-nothing new-start imaginable (a truly terrible feeling and one which for a time has caused me to seriously question my future at work), failed to get even an interview for another job because I have no degree (I have heard recently that the person who got the job is crap though, so that's something!), completely and painfully ruptured my Achilles Tendon putting me in plaster and on crutches for eight weeks and off work for ten, started an extended and ongoing period of time out of the Cathedral Choir I used to love but can't be arsed with now, visited Belgium for the first time, bought a new flat and moved there, and cried a lot. And of course some stuff I'm not going to mention.
I feel as though I've packed several years worth of life experience into a single year, but I really wish I hadn't.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Back to normal (whatever normal is)
I now have heating. Mirabile Dictu! The cats look pleased. I am pleased.
Back to work yesterday. Went well but I have a lot to catch up to try to get up to date with what's happening. This evening my ankle is fairly badly swollen in comparison with what it's been recently. A handful of painkillers and a glassful of Gin & Tonic seems to be in order. Then an early night. It's strange setting the alarm to get up in the morning.
A few posts ago I mentioned engineering and I was accused by Gogs of not loving it enough. Just to show that I love engineering just the right amount, I have sourced the image below. You should try building it sometime. Sorry that I can't remember where I swiped the image. If you know the origin please let me know and I will attribute it appropriately.
Back to work yesterday. Went well but I have a lot to catch up to try to get up to date with what's happening. This evening my ankle is fairly badly swollen in comparison with what it's been recently. A handful of painkillers and a glassful of Gin & Tonic seems to be in order. Then an early night. It's strange setting the alarm to get up in the morning.
A few posts ago I mentioned engineering and I was accused by Gogs of not loving it enough. Just to show that I love engineering just the right amount, I have sourced the image below. You should try building it sometime. Sorry that I can't remember where I swiped the image. If you know the origin please let me know and I will attribute it appropriately.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Houses, legs and advanced driving techniques
The recent lack of postings in the past 10 days, for which I apologise, has been largely due to me being very busy with preparations to move house two days from now. That, combined with the removal of the cast from my leg last Friday and the resulting hilarity caused thereby (not), has meant I have had no time to sit down and type even a stream of consciousness (as is my wont sometimes) never mind anything into which any thought has been inserted.
I currently have half an hour of sitting with my swollen left leg up as I take a break from packing, so I will now allow you the benefit of my wisdom (yeah, right!) and banter (ooh, the banter!) via the medium of t'InterWeb.
Unusually for this Blog, two comments were left on my previous post. Gogs, who is a real life friend (yes, I have one or two) but clearly wishes to remain anonymous on his/her comment so I will respect that, has meanly suggested that I don't love structural engineering and that in any case civil engineering is more fun. Well I'm sorry Gogs, but you are way off the mark, despite what I may have suggested in that posting. I do actually really enjoy structural engineering (yes, genuinely) and will happily slob out watching The World's Biggest Whatever, or programmes about steam engines and industrial architecture presented by the late, very great Fred Dibnah, or (a personal favourite) Mark Williams' Industrial Revelations, and all sorts of similar televisual feasts. As for Gogs' comment that civil engineering is more fun, well I can't comment on the fun aspect of it, but I will concede that the world does need civil engineers. Who'd dig the graves otherwise?
The second comment wasn't exactly on the posting itself, just a general comment on this here Blog from Colleen who is a fellow Blogger from Maine in the USA. She apparently has been reading this for a while and for some reason enjoys it and has a link on her Blog to mine. She comments that introducing herself in this way makes her feel less stalkerish, and I have to say it's the first time (to which I'll admit) I've ever been stalked! Hi Colleen, thanks for the comment. I hope my habitual profanity doesn't offend!
So what's been happening I hear you ask.
Call me naive but I suspect I had thought that last Friday I would hobble into the fracture clinic at hospital, have the cast removed, thank the staff, hand back the crutches, and walk out. Aye, right! I am still using the crutches, although I can now put some weight on my emaciated left leg, and it will be another week before I return to work.
I still am not allowed to drive since I can't perform an emergency stop safely. Come to think of it, now that I know I've gone global I should maybe explain that in common with most drivers in the UK I drive a manual car (on the stick as I believe it's known in some places) rather than an automatic, so to perform an emergency stop one needs to be able to depress the clutch with your left foot without stopping to think whether it'll hurt or not.
Or at least medical opinion is that my injury will stop me performing such a stop. Leaving aside the fact that you should almost never have to perform an emergency stop if you are an alert skilled driver (I hardly need say, I am both, ahem!) who pays attention to what's happening on the roads ahead, behind and to the side and anticipates the actions of other road users and pedestrians, in actual fact to perform an effective emergency stop one should not depress the clutch until just before the car stops as then the engine will assist with the braking. The clutch usage is then much more controlled and measured than the brake which should basically just be hammered to the floor as hard and as soon as possible (particularly if you have ABS anyway, otherwise use cadence braking).
But it's medical people who are advising me that I wouldn't be able to perform an emergency stop, not advanced drivers. But even though I know better than the medics the problem is that if I was driving and some fanny drove into me, then my insurance company might not cover me if medical advice had been that I shouldn't be driving, even if the basis for that assessment was partial bollocks. And the police wouldn't be happy either. So I can't drive for the moment. And God knows how long it'll be before I can get on the bike again. It would be fine 99.9% of the time, but the one time at traf
fic lights when I let it go past the balance point to my left and there would be no way I would have the strength in my leg to stop all 44 stones of bike crashing embarrassingly and expensively to the floor.
The bike has now been taken away to my work by a colleague where it will remain secure until I can ride it again.
I had my first session of physiotherapy yesterday. Oh fuck, it hurt!
Very nice friendly physiotherapist who clearly, patiently and accurately explained to me what she was going to do and why. It still hurt though. But afterwards my ankle felt a lot better. Physiotherapy will take place once a week for the foreseeable future with a suggestion that sometimes 6 months to a year of treatment is necessary. So I'll be paying regular visits to the Western Infirmary for some time to come. The photo shows the swelling on Saturday. Impressive, eh? Hurts too.
So, the flat.
Everything is going fine. I now have the keys and am about to move. A little bit of work has been done in the past three days (new Damp Proof Course) and tomorrow morning I will be taking a break from packing here and spending the morning at the new flat while Virgin Media come to install the telephone, broadband and cable TV, Scottish Gas come to exchange the prepayment Gas meter for one used by people with bank accounts and the ability to pass credit checks (cynical? who me?), and a heating engineer comes to light the gas boiler which I couldn't manage on Sunday, despite having spent almost 13 years of my life selling the bloody things and therefore having some idea of how they work! The boiler is a slight worry as it looks a few years old so I am half expecting it to either be condemned, necessitating an expensive replacement, or to require expensive parts replacing (my guess is that at the very least the piezo ignition isn't working). We'll see what happens anyway, and in fact having just taken possession of the property it may be that the seller has some legal obligation to have such integral facilities repaired/replaced at his expense. Here's hoping it'll be OK anyway. I still have to arrange for Scottish Power to come to exchange the prepayment electrickery meter for one which doesn't need repeated trips to the corner shop to purchase credit using cash.
Anyway, time is getting on and the packing isn't doing itself. I may extend my half hour break and have something to eat first before I get back to the grind.
I currently have half an hour of sitting with my swollen left leg up as I take a break from packing, so I will now allow you the benefit of my wisdom (yeah, right!) and banter (ooh, the banter!) via the medium of t'InterWeb.
Unusually for this Blog, two comments were left on my previous post. Gogs, who is a real life friend (yes, I have one or two) but clearly wishes to remain anonymous on his/her comment so I will respect that, has meanly suggested that I don't love structural engineering and that in any case civil engineering is more fun. Well I'm sorry Gogs, but you are way off the mark, despite what I may have suggested in that posting. I do actually really enjoy structural engineering (yes, genuinely) and will happily slob out watching The World's Biggest Whatever, or programmes about steam engines and industrial architecture presented by the late, very great Fred Dibnah, or (a personal favourite) Mark Williams' Industrial Revelations, and all sorts of similar televisual feasts. As for Gogs' comment that civil engineering is more fun, well I can't comment on the fun aspect of it, but I will concede that the world does need civil engineers. Who'd dig the graves otherwise?
The second comment wasn't exactly on the posting itself, just a general comment on this here Blog from Colleen who is a fellow Blogger from Maine in the USA. She apparently has been reading this for a while and for some reason enjoys it and has a link on her Blog to mine. She comments that introducing herself in this way makes her feel less stalkerish, and I have to say it's the first time (to which I'll admit) I've ever been stalked! Hi Colleen, thanks for the comment. I hope my habitual profanity doesn't offend!
So what's been happening I hear you ask.
Call me naive but I suspect I had thought that last Friday I would hobble into the fracture clinic at hospital, have the cast removed, thank the staff, hand back the crutches, and walk out. Aye, right! I am still using the crutches, although I can now put some weight on my emaciated left leg, and it will be another week before I return to work.
I still am not allowed to drive since I can't perform an emergency stop safely. Come to think of it, now that I know I've gone global I should maybe explain that in common with most drivers in the UK I drive a manual car (on the stick as I believe it's known in some places) rather than an automatic, so to perform an emergency stop one needs to be able to depress the clutch with your left foot without stopping to think whether it'll hurt or not.
Or at least medical opinion is that my injury will stop me performing such a stop. Leaving aside the fact that you should almost never have to perform an emergency stop if you are an alert skilled driver (I hardly need say, I am both, ahem!) who pays attention to what's happening on the roads ahead, behind and to the side and anticipates the actions of other road users and pedestrians, in actual fact to perform an effective emergency stop one should not depress the clutch until just before the car stops as then the engine will assist with the braking. The clutch usage is then much more controlled and measured than the brake which should basically just be hammered to the floor as hard and as soon as possible (particularly if you have ABS anyway, otherwise use cadence braking).
But it's medical people who are advising me that I wouldn't be able to perform an emergency stop, not advanced drivers. But even though I know better than the medics the problem is that if I was driving and some fanny drove into me, then my insurance company might not cover me if medical advice had been that I shouldn't be driving, even if the basis for that assessment was partial bollocks. And the police wouldn't be happy either. So I can't drive for the moment. And God knows how long it'll be before I can get on the bike again. It would be fine 99.9% of the time, but the one time at traf
fic lights when I let it go past the balance point to my left and there would be no way I would have the strength in my leg to stop all 44 stones of bike crashing embarrassingly and expensively to the floor.The bike has now been taken away to my work by a colleague where it will remain secure until I can ride it again.
I had my first session of physiotherapy yesterday. Oh fuck, it hurt!
Very nice friendly physiotherapist who clearly, patiently and accurately explained to me what she was going to do and why. It still hurt though. But afterwards my ankle felt a lot better. Physiotherapy will take place once a week for the foreseeable future with a suggestion that sometimes 6 months to a year of treatment is necessary. So I'll be paying regular visits to the Western Infirmary for some time to come. The photo shows the swelling on Saturday. Impressive, eh? Hurts too.
So, the flat.
Everything is going fine. I now have the keys and am about to move. A little bit of work has been done in the past three days (new Damp Proof Course) and tomorrow morning I will be taking a break from packing here and spending the morning at the new flat while Virgin Media come to install the telephone, broadband and cable TV, Scottish Gas come to exchange the prepayment Gas meter for one used by people with bank accounts and the ability to pass credit checks (cynical? who me?), and a heating engineer comes to light the gas boiler which I couldn't manage on Sunday, despite having spent almost 13 years of my life selling the bloody things and therefore having some idea of how they work! The boiler is a slight worry as it looks a few years old so I am half expecting it to either be condemned, necessitating an expensive replacement, or to require expensive parts replacing (my guess is that at the very least the piezo ignition isn't working). We'll see what happens anyway, and in fact having just taken possession of the property it may be that the seller has some legal obligation to have such integral facilities repaired/replaced at his expense. Here's hoping it'll be OK anyway. I still have to arrange for Scottish Power to come to exchange the prepayment electrickery meter for one which doesn't need repeated trips to the corner shop to purchase credit using cash.
Anyway, time is getting on and the packing isn't doing itself. I may extend my half hour break and have something to eat first before I get back to the grind.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Jacques Brel, Tintin, waffles, Poirot ............
So what was Belgium like? I hear you ask rather belatedly. I'm glad you asked, so I'll tell you. It was bloody hot for a start! And it was rather a struggle on the crutches, of which more anon, but it was a very enjoyable weekend.
No problems on the outward bound flight on Friday, and rather annoyingly no one took the trouble to open the envelope and read the medical certificate which I had been forced to piss about getting. Still, I had it with me just in case.
So we got there uneventfully and we (my dad and me) were collected by my brother at Charleroi, having waited for about an hour in unventilated, un-airconditioned, sweltering heat for our bags to be offloaded and appear on the carousel. Tempers were running a bit high amongst some of our fellow passengers, and it turned out that the baggage handlers (amongst others) were on strike at Brussels airport which meant that Charleroi was not only busier than usual but was subject to the handlers there apparently being arsy in support of their colleagues.
So once we got into the car we decided there was no point in wasting time going to the hotel, so we headed towards Brussels, stopping enroute at the battle of Waterloo memorial. Very little mention of Wellington, but lots of Napoleon and they clearly were unaware that the short arse had lost the battle! The photo on the right is of Napoleon and the way he is depicted standing with his arms folded he looks like he's having a bit of a hissy fit. You can't actually see a petted lip, but I think it's there!
After a brief stop at Waterloo we carried on to Brussels, and found ourselves near the Grand Place eating lovely sandwiches on hot bread.
A bit of a wander round and we saw the famous pissing boy, sorry, Mannequin Pis, which frankly isn't worth crossing the street to look at, never mind travelling to Belgium. What was worth looking at though was the beer shop nearby which has an unfortunate name. I'm sure they don't actually sell Piss Beer!
Brussels is full of cobblestones. Said cobbles are rather uneven with big gaps between lots of them. I am on crutches. Crutches have rubber bits on the end to stop them slipping. If you put a crutch into one of the gaps between cobbles often enough then the metal pole which is the actual crutch eventually will pierce the rubber stopper on the end and poke through. If you then use the crutch on stone or tiled surfaces it will slide. This isn't hypothetical. Day one and one of the crutches was knackered, causing me for the rest of the weekend to be very careful where I put the crutch, careful not to angle it out too much (keeping it as vertical as possible) and careful not to go too fast or too far for too long. It was much harder work than it would have been with undamaged crutches. When I got back home I went to the fracture clinic and they changed the ends in about 30 seconds. What a difference!
Anyway, Brussels was a nice city, the little we saw of it (see reason above) but very busy.
On Friday evening we had dinner in the hotel in Charleroi. It was acceptable but unexceptional, although it was nice to be able to eat outside in the still-warm weather.
On Saturday we decided we'd head to Ypres and have a look at a war cemetery as well as the city itself. The cemetery we chose was Tyne Cot, which is the largest of them with a
round 12,000 soldiers of the Commonwealth Forces buried there. About 70% (that's over 8,000) graves have no names on the headstones but are marked simply "Known unto God" and the wall at the rear of the cemetery lists 35,000 names of soldiers who died but have no known grave. These are numbers. The numbers are staggering. But more staggering are the rows and rows of identical white Portland stone headstones. A lot of men died near Ypres. You may have heard of the battle, no, slaughter, at Passchendaele. That was just one of the battles at the Ypres salient between October 1914 and
October 1918.
In Flanders Fields, by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
between the crosses, row on row
that mark our place; and in the sky
the larks, still bravely singing, fly
scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow.
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
in Flanders fields.
Take up your quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
the torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
we shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
in Flanders fields
Anyway, that was Tyne Cot. A very moving place.
We then tried to look at Ypres, but there was a market on in the town centre and we couldn't find a parking place close enough for me to hobble so we cut our losses and headed north to Bruges.
Bruges is a lovely city and undoubtedly was the high spot of the weekend (Belgium-wise that is, it goes without saying that it was great to see my brother and to spend time with him and dad).
We found some underground parking near the centre and wandered to the square, which might be called the Grand Place, or might not. Lovely architecture and some great looking cafe-bars around the edge. Selecting one more or less at random (see photo left) we sat outside, shaded from the warm sunshine, and had some cold beers and a set lunch. Flanders stew is delicious and I heartily recommend it. Except if you're a vegetarian of course.
After lunch we took a stroll round, finding another square and what looked like a mediaeval church which on inspection inside seemed to related to the crusades.
A busy town, but not as busy as Brussels had felt. I will certainly go back and visit Bruges once my mobility is unimpaired. I quite fancy taking the bike across on the Rosyth - Zebrugge ferry and doing it that way. Of course I'd also have a further look a bit around Belgium generally, but Bruges was excellent and I could easily and happily spend some time there.
On Saturday evening we ate in Charleroi, but not in the hotel this time. We started by heading off to, of all things, an Irish bar! There is clearly a European law which requires all towns to have one, because we saw one just about everywhere. The Irish Times Pub in downtown Charleroi was everything you'd expect. And I don't really mean that as much of a compliment. It was OK, but very smoky for one thing. Drinking in Scotland where there is a ban on smoking indoors (and in Ireland too for that matter) you forget how spoilt you become by the luxury of being able to breathe clean air and go home at the end of the night not smelling like an ashtray. The selection of Belgian beers in the pub was poor, but then again if you're looking for Belgian beers in Belgium you just have to go anywhere else rather than an Irish bar so you can't really complain. Big screen TV showing Manchester United playing against someone else. And probably Watney's Red Barrel and Fish & Chips. The Guinness was OK.
We then ate in Cafe Leffe, which was perfectly fine. They wouldn't let us sit outside at the pavement tables which seemed to be reserved for those drinking but not eating. After some hilarity (!) with the waiter and discussion on how to pronounce the word Archiduke (don't ask) my brother and I both ordered Filet de Beouf and dad ordered chicken of some description. When the plates were delivered my beouf looked remarkably light coloured, even under the Rocquefort sauce, in comparison with the other one (which was supposed to be identical apart from having Archiduke sauce on it. When I scraped the sauce away I discovered that my beouf looked remarkably like pork. I really couldn't be arsed trying to sort it out so just ate it anyway. I could understand if I was the only one ordering it, but we actually ordered two of the same dish cooked the same way (apart from the sauce) at the same time. Not to worry. The pork was fine. As apparently were the beef and chicken.
Back then to the hotel for some more beer (see right) and lazing about outside enjoying the weather.
Next morning we went back to the airport and flew back to Glasgow Prestwick airport (No! Stop calling it that Ryanair. It isn't in Glasgow).
As I climbed the steps to the aircraft the senior cabin crew person (German - wonderful sense of humour, the Germans) tried to give me grief for not having requested assistance in advance. I told her I didn't need assistance. She said I did. I said I hadn't had any problems on the flight out and in fact when I had called Ryanair in advance they told me I wouldn't need assistance as long as I could get about on crutches. She told me I should have asked again. Wait a minute, so she was suggesting that once I have asked a question and received a reply, I should continue asking the same question until I received a different reply. Fanny. She made a big show of having to ask people to move seat to accommodate me. Fanny. Everyone else was fine (her colleagues were kind of rolling their eyes in her direction as I hobbled up the aisle, as if in apology for their fanny of a colleague). She'd obviously had a bad day but I wasn't going to let her bad attitude spoil my mood. Let her screw up her own blood pressure if she wants.
Anyway, all in all a good weekend. I haven't mentioned the obvious thing about Belgium (OK, one of the obvious things, but the most obvious to me) the beer. We had plenty and it was good lager. Sod all that fruity flavoured nonsense. If I want to taste fruit I'll drink Ribena. The bog standard lager was perfectly adequate, and thankfully ubiquitous.
So, Belgium - go there, especially Bruges.
No problems on the outward bound flight on Friday, and rather annoyingly no one took the trouble to open the envelope and read the medical certificate which I had been forced to piss about getting. Still, I had it with me just in case.
So we got there uneventfully and we (my dad and me) were collected by my brother at Charleroi, having waited for about an hour in unventilated, un-airconditioned, sweltering heat for our bags to be offloaded and appear on the carousel. Tempers were running a bit high amongst some of our fellow passengers, and it turned out that the baggage handlers (amongst others) were on strike at Brussels airport which meant that Charleroi was not only busier than usual but was subject to the handlers there apparently being arsy in support of their colleagues.
So once we got into the car we decided there was no point in wasting time going to the hotel, so we headed towards Brussels, stopping enroute at the battle of Waterloo memorial. Very little mention of Wellington, but lots of Napoleon and they clearly were unaware that the short arse had lost the battle! The photo on the right is of Napoleon and the way he is depicted standing with his arms folded he looks like he's having a bit of a hissy fit. You can't actually see a petted lip, but I think it's there!
After a brief stop at Waterloo we carried on to Brussels, and found ourselves near the Grand Place eating lovely sandwiches on hot bread.
A bit of a wander round and we saw the famous pissing boy, sorry, Mannequin Pis, which frankly isn't worth crossing the street to look at, never mind travelling to Belgium. What was worth looking at though was the beer shop nearby which has an unfortunate name. I'm sure they don't actually sell Piss Beer!Brussels is full of cobblestones. Said cobbles are rather uneven with big gaps between lots of them. I am on crutches. Crutches have rubber bits on the end to stop them slipping. If you put a crutch into one of the gaps between cobbles often enough then the metal pole which is the actual crutch eventually will pierce the rubber stopper on the end and poke through. If you then use the crutch on stone or tiled surfaces it will slide. This isn't hypothetical. Day one and one of the crutches was knackered, causing me for the rest of the weekend to be very careful where I put the crutch, careful not to angle it out too much (keeping it as vertical as possible) and careful not to go too fast or too far for too long. It was much harder work than it would have been with undamaged crutches. When I got back home I went to the fracture clinic and they changed the ends in about 30 seconds. What a difference!
Anyway, Brussels was a nice city, the little we saw of it (see reason above) but very busy.
On Friday evening we had dinner in the hotel in Charleroi. It was acceptable but unexceptional, although it was nice to be able to eat outside in the still-warm weather.
On Saturday we decided we'd head to Ypres and have a look at a war cemetery as well as the city itself. The cemetery we chose was Tyne Cot, which is the largest of them with a
round 12,000 soldiers of the Commonwealth Forces buried there. About 70% (that's over 8,000) graves have no names on the headstones but are marked simply "Known unto God" and the wall at the rear of the cemetery lists 35,000 names of soldiers who died but have no known grave. These are numbers. The numbers are staggering. But more staggering are the rows and rows of identical white Portland stone headstones. A lot of men died near Ypres. You may have heard of the battle, no, slaughter, at Passchendaele. That was just one of the battles at the Ypres salient between October 1914 and
October 1918.In Flanders Fields, by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
between the crosses, row on row
that mark our place; and in the sky
the larks, still bravely singing, fly
scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow.
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
in Flanders fields.
Take up your quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
the torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
we shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
in Flanders fields
Anyway, that was Tyne Cot. A very moving place.
We then tried to look at Ypres, but there was a market on in the town centre and we couldn't find a parking place close enough for me to hobble so we cut our losses and headed north to Bruges.
Bruges is a lovely city and undoubtedly was the high spot of the weekend (Belgium-wise that is, it goes without saying that it was great to see my brother and to spend time with him and dad).
We found some underground parking near the centre and wandered to the square, which might be called the Grand Place, or might not. Lovely architecture and some great looking cafe-bars around the edge. Selecting one more or less at random (see photo left) we sat outside, shaded from the warm sunshine, and had some cold beers and a set lunch. Flanders stew is delicious and I heartily recommend it. Except if you're a vegetarian of course.After lunch we took a stroll round, finding another square and what looked like a mediaeval church which on inspection inside seemed to related to the crusades.
A busy town, but not as busy as Brussels had felt. I will certainly go back and visit Bruges once my mobility is unimpaired. I quite fancy taking the bike across on the Rosyth - Zebrugge ferry and doing it that way. Of course I'd also have a further look a bit around Belgium generally, but Bruges was excellent and I could easily and happily spend some time there.
On Saturday evening we ate in Charleroi, but not in the hotel this time. We started by heading off to, of all things, an Irish bar! There is clearly a European law which requires all towns to have one, because we saw one just about everywhere. The Irish Times Pub in downtown Charleroi was everything you'd expect. And I don't really mean that as much of a compliment. It was OK, but very smoky for one thing. Drinking in Scotland where there is a ban on smoking indoors (and in Ireland too for that matter) you forget how spoilt you become by the luxury of being able to breathe clean air and go home at the end of the night not smelling like an ashtray. The selection of Belgian beers in the pub was poor, but then again if you're looking for Belgian beers in Belgium you just have to go anywhere else rather than an Irish bar so you can't really complain. Big screen TV showing Manchester United playing against someone else. And probably Watney's Red Barrel and Fish & Chips. The Guinness was OK.
We then ate in Cafe Leffe, which was perfectly fine. They wouldn't let us sit outside at the pavement tables which seemed to be reserved for those drinking but not eating. After some hilarity (!) with the waiter and discussion on how to pronounce the word Archiduke (don't ask) my brother and I both ordered Filet de Beouf and dad ordered chicken of some description. When the plates were delivered my beouf looked remarkably light coloured, even under the Rocquefort sauce, in comparison with the other one (which was supposed to be identical apart from having Archiduke sauce on it. When I scraped the sauce away I discovered that my beouf looked remarkably like pork. I really couldn't be arsed trying to sort it out so just ate it anyway. I could understand if I was the only one ordering it, but we actually ordered two of the same dish cooked the same way (apart from the sauce) at the same time. Not to worry. The pork was fine. As apparently were the beef and chicken.
Back then to the hotel for some more beer (see right) and lazing about outside enjoying the weather.
Next morning we went back to the airport and flew back to Glasgow Prestwick airport (No! Stop calling it that Ryanair. It isn't in Glasgow).
As I climbed the steps to the aircraft the senior cabin crew person (German - wonderful sense of humour, the Germans) tried to give me grief for not having requested assistance in advance. I told her I didn't need assistance. She said I did. I said I hadn't had any problems on the flight out and in fact when I had called Ryanair in advance they told me I wouldn't need assistance as long as I could get about on crutches. She told me I should have asked again. Wait a minute, so she was suggesting that once I have asked a question and received a reply, I should continue asking the same question until I received a different reply. Fanny. She made a big show of having to ask people to move seat to accommodate me. Fanny. Everyone else was fine (her colleagues were kind of rolling their eyes in her direction as I hobbled up the aisle, as if in apology for their fanny of a colleague). She'd obviously had a bad day but I wasn't going to let her bad attitude spoil my mood. Let her screw up her own blood pressure if she wants.
Anyway, all in all a good weekend. I haven't mentioned the obvious thing about Belgium (OK, one of the obvious things, but the most obvious to me) the beer. We had plenty and it was good lager. Sod all that fruity flavoured nonsense. If I want to taste fruit I'll drink Ribena. The bog standard lager was perfectly adequate, and thankfully ubiquitous.
So, Belgium - go there, especially Bruges.
Walls have ears
Sitting in the barber's chair this morning regaling the staff with tales of how I was injured while saving a child from a burning orphanage (funnily enough they didn't believe me, but then again they have known me for about 10 years) and then telling them the real story when up piped a voice from the chair next to me which said "wasn't it me who saw you when you had your accident?" and yes indeed, the nice man who had held the shop door open for me to struggle in on crutches and who looked slightly familiar had thought I'd looked familiar too and when I was subsequently recounting tales of derring-do (OK, of middle aged men playing badminton) he recognised me from 5 weeks ago when he was working in A&E. I seamlessly announced that of course the medical staff had been wonderful etc etc (in fact they were very good).
Small world, and worth remembering that you never know who's listening. Just as well that firstly my experience in A&E had been good, and secondly that if it hadn't been good I hadn't been badmouthing them to the barber.
Small world, and worth remembering that you never know who's listening. Just as well that firstly my experience in A&E had been good, and secondly that if it hadn't been good I hadn't been badmouthing them to the barber.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
No pain, no gain
It didn't actually hurt!
Despite gleeful assurances to the contrary from several people beforehand, on Friday when they moved the angle of my ankle from the equinus (tiptoes) to the semi equinus (not quite so extreme tiptoes) position I felt no pain at all. Nausea and lightheadedness, yes, but no pain. And the nausea is apparently fairly common when a cast is removed and was there well before anyone moved my ankle. Very strange.
And there was good news too. When I had the accident the A&E doctor told me I would be in a cast for about six weeks. The following day the orthopaedic doctor told me it'd in fact be twelve weeks (three months). But on Friday I was told that having had the first cast on for 5 weeks instead of 4, the next one could be reduced to 3 weeks in the semi equinus position. I replied that this would obviously be followed by another cast but was told that I might have just a heel lift for the remaining time. I'm not 100% sure what that means because at the time I assumed it'd be something put into my own shoes to decrease the length of my tendon (i.e. lift me kind of onto tiptoes) but since then I have heard a credible suggestion that it will still be some sort of cast/bandage/whatever so I don't know for sure. I'm also guessing and indeed hoping that the crutches will no longer be necessary but I'm expecting to use walking sticks for a while. That's speculation though.
I've spoken to work, and they have offered to get me collected and taken back home every day while I can't drive (I had assumed that as soon as I get the heel lift I'd be able to drive but I've since been disabused of this notion!) and they will also put measures in place so that I can work in a downstairs office to save having to tackle the stairs. This is really go
od of them, and is much appreciated. So the bottom line is that I may well be back at work about a month before I thought I was going to be, albeit still unable to walk or stand normally.
Various plans I had to fill in my time (family tree research, scanning old photos and updating my website amongst other things) might now be returned to the back burner. But I'm happy to do this if I can get back into some sort of normality. Having recently had lots of time to sit around and, perhaps rather worryingly, think, I have realised that I have been subconsciously reassessing what things are important to me and what things aren't, with somewhat surprising conclusions. Surprising to me anyway.
I've now had a qualified acceptance of my offer on a new flat. It could still technically fall through (although this is hopefully unlikely) so I will still hold back from providing fuller details.
I like the sentiment in the image in this post.
Despite gleeful assurances to the contrary from several people beforehand, on Friday when they moved the angle of my ankle from the equinus (tiptoes) to the semi equinus (not quite so extreme tiptoes) position I felt no pain at all. Nausea and lightheadedness, yes, but no pain. And the nausea is apparently fairly common when a cast is removed and was there well before anyone moved my ankle. Very strange.
And there was good news too. When I had the accident the A&E doctor told me I would be in a cast for about six weeks. The following day the orthopaedic doctor told me it'd in fact be twelve weeks (three months). But on Friday I was told that having had the first cast on for 5 weeks instead of 4, the next one could be reduced to 3 weeks in the semi equinus position. I replied that this would obviously be followed by another cast but was told that I might have just a heel lift for the remaining time. I'm not 100% sure what that means because at the time I assumed it'd be something put into my own shoes to decrease the length of my tendon (i.e. lift me kind of onto tiptoes) but since then I have heard a credible suggestion that it will still be some sort of cast/bandage/whatever so I don't know for sure. I'm also guessing and indeed hoping that the crutches will no longer be necessary but I'm expecting to use walking sticks for a while. That's speculation though.
I've spoken to work, and they have offered to get me collected and taken back home every day while I can't drive (I had assumed that as soon as I get the heel lift I'd be able to drive but I've since been disabused of this notion!) and they will also put measures in place so that I can work in a downstairs office to save having to tackle the stairs. This is really go
od of them, and is much appreciated. So the bottom line is that I may well be back at work about a month before I thought I was going to be, albeit still unable to walk or stand normally.Various plans I had to fill in my time (family tree research, scanning old photos and updating my website amongst other things) might now be returned to the back burner. But I'm happy to do this if I can get back into some sort of normality. Having recently had lots of time to sit around and, perhaps rather worryingly, think, I have realised that I have been subconsciously reassessing what things are important to me and what things aren't, with somewhat surprising conclusions. Surprising to me anyway.
I've now had a qualified acceptance of my offer on a new flat. It could still technically fall through (although this is hopefully unlikely) so I will still hold back from providing fuller details.
I like the sentiment in the image in this post.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Purple
Isn't this a natty colour? I also draw your attention to the gap between the cast and my shin. In case it needs pointing out, this was a tight fit 4 weeks ago! Muscle wastage is an inevitable consequence of life in a cast I'm afraid.Off to the fracture clinic tomorrow for the first of my painful change of angle days. Report will follow in due course. Maybe.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
The pain of flying
Off to Belgium tomorrow, which will be fun. I booked the trip well before I screwed up my Achilles Tendon, so after the accident I called Ryanair to make sure there wouldn't be a problem with me flying since I know they only accept a maximum of 4 limited mobility passengers on any one flight. No problem, I was told, as long as you can actually get about on the crutches you don't count as limited mobility which is really for wheelchair bound people. Great, I thought. That's sorted then.
I was surfing t'InterWeb the other day and found myself checking the Ryanair site and clicking on a link on the FAQ pages. This told me that if I had a full leg cast I'd need to book two seats (I don't) but a half leg cast is fine for one seat, but in all cases anyone travelling with a leg in a cast needs a medical certificate stating they are fit to fly. What? I read it again. Yes, indeed the dozy twat to whom I spoke at Ryanair weeks ago told me I could fly, but didn't think to mention the requirement for a certificate!
I immediately called my GP to arrange this and half an hour later received a call back from the receptionist who told me that the GP (it's a locum) was strongly of the opinion that it's the fracture clinic at hospital who would provide this, not the GP. I then phoned the clinic and was told, no it's your GP. I phoned the GP again. I phoned the clinic again. And finally (I hope) the outcome is that I was put through to one of the medical secretaries who confirmed that they had in the past typed up such letters and said that when I go in this afternoon to have my cast changed to a split one (suitable for flying) I should ask to be seen by one of the doctors who would then dictate a letter which could be typed up while I waited. She said this should be OK. Wait a minute. Should be OK? This is going to be 3pm on the day before I fly. I have to be at Prestwick Airport for about 10am, which really leaves me no time to arrange anything else if there are no doctors available/willing to see me or no secretaries available/willing to type the damn thing. I pointed this out to her, and she said that it would definitely be OK. Fingers crossed then, but I have a niggling doubt in my mind, funnily enough.
So I have to get a taxi to the hospital for 3pm, then try to get that elusive certificate while I'm there. The funny thing is that it was the plaster room staff who told me I'd need a split cast (in case the leg swells while the aircraft is in the air) as airlines insisted on it. The Ryanair site says that I need a split cast if it's been on for less than 48 hours, over 48 hours a normal cast is OK. I've printed that page from the site and will show it at hospital to see what they think. The cast I'm wearing is comfortable and stable, so I'd say there's no point in changing it unnecessarily, particularly since next Friday is the first big painful change of angle day so whatever cast I'm wearing will be off then anyway. Did I mention that before? It's the sort of thing you only really need to know the day before, but what they do is set the ankle with the toes pointing downwards, as though I was on tiptoe. Four weeks later they remove that cast and angle the toes up a bit. The second cast also lasts four weeks. Then finally they change it again so that the foot is in a neutral position, as though I was standing normally. That cast lasts four weeks, making a total of 3 months in plaster. Anyway, when the cast was being put on I was advised that even if I had stopped needing them by then, even if I didn't think I'd need them, I must take painkillers before coming to get the cast changed. Or rather before they stretch the Achilles Tendon to change the angle each time. I was told it is painful. This has since been confirmed gleefully by several people who have had the same accident, one of whom said that the pain of the accident was as nothing compared with the pain of the change of angle. That's the sort of thing you don't want to know too far in advance, but useful to know to take painkillers first.
This evening the pussy cats are off to the south side of Glasgow to be looked after (and spoiled I would imagine) for the weekend. I'll collect them again on Monday. They are currently running about wildly in the garden chasing each other, enjoying their last taste of freedom before a few days with no access to the big wide world.
I was surfing t'InterWeb the other day and found myself checking the Ryanair site and clicking on a link on the FAQ pages. This told me that if I had a full leg cast I'd need to book two seats (I don't) but a half leg cast is fine for one seat, but in all cases anyone travelling with a leg in a cast needs a medical certificate stating they are fit to fly. What? I read it again. Yes, indeed the dozy twat to whom I spoke at Ryanair weeks ago told me I could fly, but didn't think to mention the requirement for a certificate!
I immediately called my GP to arrange this and half an hour later received a call back from the receptionist who told me that the GP (it's a locum) was strongly of the opinion that it's the fracture clinic at hospital who would provide this, not the GP. I then phoned the clinic and was told, no it's your GP. I phoned the GP again. I phoned the clinic again. And finally (I hope) the outcome is that I was put through to one of the medical secretaries who confirmed that they had in the past typed up such letters and said that when I go in this afternoon to have my cast changed to a split one (suitable for flying) I should ask to be seen by one of the doctors who would then dictate a letter which could be typed up while I waited. She said this should be OK. Wait a minute. Should be OK? This is going to be 3pm on the day before I fly. I have to be at Prestwick Airport for about 10am, which really leaves me no time to arrange anything else if there are no doctors available/willing to see me or no secretaries available/willing to type the damn thing. I pointed this out to her, and she said that it would definitely be OK. Fingers crossed then, but I have a niggling doubt in my mind, funnily enough.
So I have to get a taxi to the hospital for 3pm, then try to get that elusive certificate while I'm there. The funny thing is that it was the plaster room staff who told me I'd need a split cast (in case the leg swells while the aircraft is in the air) as airlines insisted on it. The Ryanair site says that I need a split cast if it's been on for less than 48 hours, over 48 hours a normal cast is OK. I've printed that page from the site and will show it at hospital to see what they think. The cast I'm wearing is comfortable and stable, so I'd say there's no point in changing it unnecessarily, particularly since next Friday is the first big painful change of angle day so whatever cast I'm wearing will be off then anyway. Did I mention that before? It's the sort of thing you only really need to know the day before, but what they do is set the ankle with the toes pointing downwards, as though I was on tiptoe. Four weeks later they remove that cast and angle the toes up a bit. The second cast also lasts four weeks. Then finally they change it again so that the foot is in a neutral position, as though I was standing normally. That cast lasts four weeks, making a total of 3 months in plaster. Anyway, when the cast was being put on I was advised that even if I had stopped needing them by then, even if I didn't think I'd need them, I must take painkillers before coming to get the cast changed. Or rather before they stretch the Achilles Tendon to change the angle each time. I was told it is painful. This has since been confirmed gleefully by several people who have had the same accident, one of whom said that the pain of the accident was as nothing compared with the pain of the change of angle. That's the sort of thing you don't want to know too far in advance, but useful to know to take painkillers first.
This evening the pussy cats are off to the south side of Glasgow to be looked after (and spoiled I would imagine) for the weekend. I'll collect them again on Monday. They are currently running about wildly in the garden chasing each other, enjoying their last taste of freedom before a few days with no access to the big wide world.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Uisge Beatha
I think the image on the left sums up the effect malt whisky had on me recently! Good stuff though. It was an Islay one, but I can't remember which. Bowmore I think.Anyway, soon I should have news either way about the potential house hunting. Fingers crossed.
Yesterday's decision to sit and do nothing seems to have done the trick as I feel a lot better today. Much less upper body pain. If you've never had the misfortune to need to use crutches you are lucky, but until you do have to use them you just don't appreciate the effort and pain involved in getting about, and the fact that everything takes twice as long to achieve.
Gents, next time you are in the toilet, try standing on one leg while you are doing it (aiming carefully, of course!) and see how easy it is to do while being unable to put any weight on one of your legs. Ladies, next time you are doing the dishes, cleaning or ironing, try doing it on one leg (only joking!)
Simple things we usually take for granted shouldn't ever be taken for granted. Be thankful for the ability to get about unaided and unhindered.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
That's a bloody long time!
Collected my sick note from my GP this morning. The first one I can remember ever having in something like 27 years of working! I had asked that, having self-certificated for a week, my GP give me a certificate from Monday 26th until my next appointment at the fracture clinic on 20th April. This would give me about 3 weeks of certificated absence plus the first week, then I would re-address whether I need to stay off work for longer, in consultation with the doctors at the clinic and my GP of course. I thought 4 weeks was a long time to be off and had hoped that I might be able to return after then.
So I collected my pre-prepared sick note (written after my GP received a letter from the hospital so I didn't actually have to see her) this morning and took it straight to work. To my surprise, when I got to work and looked at the certificate it said I was to stay off for 6 weeks from 26th! That's 3 weeks longer than I had hoped to be off for this initial period. Although I'm mindful of the very real possibility (actually it's a probability) that I'll be off for the full 3 months, I don't want to accept that as for definite and was hoping to fool myself by staying off for repeated shorter periods. But now the earliest I'll be back to work is about 7th May. Fuck.
So, anyway, went for lunch to The Lansdowne with dad, who had kindly come and collected me to deal with said sick note. Very enjoyable it was too.
For the first time since starting to look for a place to buy, I've seen somewhere which has sparked my interest enough to actually go and look at it. So I've emailed the estate agent asking to arrange a viewing. It's slightly further away from the west en
d of Glasgow than I'd have really liked, but the property looks interesting. Hopefully no one gets in in front of me. No doubt further posts will reveal all!
The image? I watched a bit of Shaun of the Dead last night on TV. Good film. I have it on DVD and need to watch all of it again soon.
So I collected my pre-prepared sick note (written after my GP received a letter from the hospital so I didn't actually have to see her) this morning and took it straight to work. To my surprise, when I got to work and looked at the certificate it said I was to stay off for 6 weeks from 26th! That's 3 weeks longer than I had hoped to be off for this initial period. Although I'm mindful of the very real possibility (actually it's a probability) that I'll be off for the full 3 months, I don't want to accept that as for definite and was hoping to fool myself by staying off for repeated shorter periods. But now the earliest I'll be back to work is about 7th May. Fuck.
So, anyway, went for lunch to The Lansdowne with dad, who had kindly come and collected me to deal with said sick note. Very enjoyable it was too.
For the first time since starting to look for a place to buy, I've seen somewhere which has sparked my interest enough to actually go and look at it. So I've emailed the estate agent asking to arrange a viewing. It's slightly further away from the west en
d of Glasgow than I'd have really liked, but the property looks interesting. Hopefully no one gets in in front of me. No doubt further posts will reveal all!The image? I watched a bit of Shaun of the Dead last night on TV. Good film. I have it on DVD and need to watch all of it again soon.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Grammar Nazi strikes again
For some reason (48 hour rule perhaps) I have seen several Websites in the past few days where the grammar is irritatingly bad. Not just your/you're, but randomly inserted apostrophes too.
Overdid it again last night, and my leg's suffering a bit this morning.
Went to the concert and then for a drink to the Lansdowne afterwards. Bach St John Passion sung by Glasgow Chamber Choir. Very good, but the soloists, while generally of a good standard, were slightly variable. The tenor singing the part of The Evangelist, and the bass singing the part of Jesus were excellent. Opinions amongst our group were mixed regarding the tenor soloist (not The Evangelist) and while clearly he was a good singer, he was soundly eclipsed by The Evangelist. The baritone wasn't brilliant, OK, but not great. The alto was tremendous, particularly given that she had to contend with an out of tune cello much of the time. The soprano, who had apparently stepped in at the last minute when the original soloist fell ill, was very good. The bass soloist from the choir, NM, was particularly good, but perhaps that's to be expected given his musical pedigree and being a former professional singer. And he's a really nice guy too!
Anyway, overall a good concert, and being repeated this afternoon in Oban. Catch it if you can!
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